Witches' Rites
by yodeladyhoo
Summary: COMPLETE ONESHOT.  Rated T for character death.  The Veil between the worlds is thinnest on Samhain.  Sarah trys to contact Jareth and someone has to pay the price.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Witches' Rites

**Author:** Yodeladyhoo

**Summary:** Sarah longs to be with Jareth, but at what cost?

**Genre:** Fantasy

**Pairings:** Jareth x Sarah

**Rating:** T

**disclaimer **(dĭs-klā'mər): noun

**1.** (law) a voluntary repudiation of a person's legal claim to something

**2.** denial of any connection with or knowledge of

**syn:** disavowal

c.1986, 2007 The Jim Henson Company.

LABYRINTH is a trademark of The Jim Henson Company.

Labyrinth characters c.1986 Labyrinth Enterprises.

All rights reserved, but not by me.

All rights are reserved, but not by me. This short story is a work of fiction. All original characters in this story are based on actual persons. Said persons have been contacted and permission to use their likenesses has been granted. This means, if I didn't speak to you about this, it isn't you I'm talking about. Permission for the use of the non-original characters has not been requested by the author or granted by the licensor. This short story was written for your perusal and pleasure. No compensation, either financial or actual, has been collected or requested.

**Plea for Reason:** Muses are strange creatures. All it took was one string of dialogue to get this one rolling. I really want to have this completely up for today, being Samhain. It isn't plagiarism if I give credit. Areas in bold are from The Way of the Goddess by Ly Warren-Clarke, published by Prism Press in Bridport, Dorset, Great Britain.

* * *

The women struggled down the slope in the dark. The moon, already having risen long before sunset, offered ample light in its height and fullness, yet almost none made it to the forest floor. Although barren of fresh leaves, not all of the trees had relinquished their hold on their foliage. The two had to scrabble and pick their way through the bracken brushes and stones on their way to the lakeshore. 

"This would work better with three," the rear guard grumbled. "There's certainty in some numbers."

"I have more faith in the two of us than adding an unknown element to our mix." The younger woman said in response. "Please, I don't have the type of concentration that you have in maintaining my aura."

"One of the benefits of being covened, I suppose," Patt muttered more to herself than for Sarah's ears.

The pair continued down, sliding and working their way down until they reached their destination; a deserted lake deep within a forest. It was large enough to be placed on the map, yet the cove they had chosen was separated from the rest of the shore by dense forest. On the beach drinking in the moonlight was a table of a rock, more long than wide, but no more than four feet. Those who chose to swim out to this secluded beach called it the Mermaid's Perch. There weren't too many visitors or campers this time of year due to the cooler temperatures and the placement of the date within the calendar. The women were certain of their privacy.

Sarah and Patt worked in a comfortable quiet that was borne out of a long understanding of working together. After unloading their packs from their bodies and removing articles from them, the two women proceeded to unclothe themselves and walk silently into the waters that were bathed in the moonlight. Their feet, moving in unison, barely caused ripples in the surface of the lake and they waded deeper into the pool until they were shoulder deep. With an unheard signal, both women ducked their heads under the water as one. They moved as a synchronized unit, their only differences were in the patterns their hair portrayed on the surface. Sarah's long, layered mahogany hair lifted in an exaggerated timeframe, floating wild in the water while Patt's hair formed a concisely defined halo around the crown of her greying head.

Upon resurfacing, they both walked back towards the more shallow water. Patt bent to take the bottle of oil that was left there and proceeded to anoint Sarah. "May the Blessed Mother of All guard your mind, your body, your soul" she intoned while she sealed the thirteen holy portals on the younger woman's body. Sarah's body shivered partly from the magickal invocation and partly from the almost uncomfortably cool October air. After the ripple had passed from her body, she lifted the oil and anointed Patt in the same manner. Patt lifted her head, accepting the flow of power through her shorter stature, raising her arms in acceptance of the Universal power. "O, Great Goddess, we anoint ourselves in preparation for your adoration! Behold and find favour in your daughters!"

They then donned their robes; a plain, midnight blue silken one for Sarah and an ornately embroidered cotton mantle for Patt. Sarah picked up two knives, one with a ram's horn hilt, the other with a hilt made from mother-of-pearl, and a length of rope and proceeded to cast a circle while Patt prepared the alter upon the rock. When all was in readiness, the pair opened the gateways of the Elements, each in their own turn, and asked the Guardians to guide their work this night. The lake replied by rippling the moon's reflection over its surface. The trees around them whispered their approval. The very ground beneath their feet seemed to hum in acceptance of their request as warmth infused the circle. After lighting the candles, the pair faced each other, Patt facing Sarah, the alter behind the younger woman, and Sarah towards Patt, with the light of the full moon reflecting upon her face.

The chanting didn't so much start as it became audible. The voices of the women teased the mantra and the invocations from the surrounding night. Each one used their sacred and secret name, calling upon their Lady and Lord to oversee and assist in their effort, their voices rising and falling into a rhythmic cadence that seem rehearsed.

**"Come ye of the Ancient Way!  
Come ye of the Sacred Isle! **

**Hear now the voices of our inner longing.**

**For we call upon those of the Ancient Wisdom!**

**Back through the Gates of Time to the Time of all Knowledge!"**

The winds picked up, blowing stray leaves across the pebbly beach, but strangely, none passed over the line that was drawn in the earth with Sarah's white hilted knife. As their voices and chanting seemed to reach a crescendo, the lyrics seemed to change. Patt sang the original chorus, while Sarah took up a new stanza.

**"I have lit the beacon; be ye guided to this place, made sacred to the Goddess of my Art!**

**Hear me, all those who would be of my house!**

**The gulf between the Worlds exists not this night.**

**Approach all those who are of the Ancient Wisdom!**

**Come to be with me all those who will of the Art!**

**The Cup is filled in the name of thee, for I will see and speak with thee and I would see that which is yet to be.**

**Great Goddess, grant insight and serenity.**

**Let the light of love guard the sleep of the child.**

**O Lady of the Unborn cast back Thy cloak and grant to me the sight!"**

Their faces showed their spiritual frenzy; eyes shut, brows furrowed in concentration, beads of perspiration working over the ridges and crevices of their foreheads. Their arms, upraised now, exposed from the dark oversized sleeves of their garments, gleamed in the light of the Hunter's Moon. Their cloaks whipped in the tempest that the swirling energies created. One more word needed to be uttered, and it was from Sarah's lips.

"Jareth!"

Suddenly, there was a flash of blinding light; a light so intense it pierced not only the eyelids of the women, but it also flashed brilliantly within their minds. The last thought Patt had was that of any of Sarah's original doubts would definitely be dispelled by this display of _something_. Both women collapsed from the shock of energy that was summoned by their working.

The silence of the wind and voices was only was accentuated by the sounds of the surrounding nocturnal forest. Sarah was aware of the scream of a rabbit as it met its ultimate end. She opened her eyes. Lying on her side, she could see that Patt has also collapsed in a heap, much as she was. The two women lay head to head, _"Like Gemini. How appropriate,"_ Sarah mused to herself. She discovered the Path within herself approximately five years ago. Unsure if this was what the yearning that was inside of her, Patt, a hedgewitch she had met at a Yule gathering, recognized her aura and took her under her wing and guidance. Patt was her mentor, her Crone to Sarah's Maid. Patt guided Sarah through her meditations, her initiations, her first Sabbats. The two women were on a mental and spiritual link Sarah could not imagine existed. It was only appropriate that Patt assist her in this summoning. She only hoped that it was successful.

Slowing pushing herself up from the ground, Sarah sat, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead upon them. Looking up into the night and the forest, she mused out loud. "Well, that was quite a something."

A male voice behind her responded. "That was quite a something, indeed."

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**Author's Note:** I've done it for you. Now, please return the favor. Review. Thank you. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Witches' Rites

**Author:** Yodeladyhoo

**Summary: **Sarah longs to be with Jareth, but at what cost?

**Genre: **Fantasy

**Pairings:** Jareth x Sarah

**Rating: **T

**disclaimer **(dĭs-klā'mər): noun

**1. **(law) a voluntary repudiation of a person's legal claim to something

**2.** denial of any connection with or knowledge of

**syn:** disavowal

c.1986, 2007 The Jim Henson Company.

LABYRINTH is a trademark of The Jim Henson Company.

Labyrinth characters c.1986 Labyrinth Enterprises.

All rights reserved, but not by me.

All rights are reserved, but not by me. This short story is a work of fiction. All original characters in this story are based on actual persons. Said persons have been contacted and permission to use their likenesses has been granted. This means, if I didn't speak to you about this, it isn't you I'm talking about. Permission for the use of the non-original characters has not been requested by the author or granted by the licensor. This short story was written for your perusal and pleasure. No compensation, either financial or actual, has been collected or requested.

**Plea for Reason:** Well, this took a twist I wasn't expecting. Just an epilogue to go, now. It isn't plagiarism if I give credit. The areas in bold are taken from The Way of the Goddess by Ly Warren-Clarke, published by Prism Press, Bridport, Dorset, Great Britain.

* * *

Thirteen years. 

For thirteen years Sarah wondered and worked over the final words spoken in desperation from Jareth. At the time, she was too young to understand their implications, too young to make a decision of that nature, too young to be mature enough to negotiate. At the time, she was still too self-absorbed to hear anything being said; all she could focus on was the words that she struggled for so long to remember. She needed to become her own person before she could return any of the emotions that Jareth was offering her at the time.

Now, thirteen years later, she understood. She understood what he meant to fear him, to do as he said for him to be her slave. But, time is a funny thing. She doubted that implied message was what she heard. She needed to know the truth. Five years ago, she found her Calling. In those five years, she searched for the Truth to fill the void in her spirit, and it had—to a point. It could not tell her the answers she craved. She had to go back to the source to find that truth. And what better night than Samhain. A time dedicated to the darker aspect of the Moon, the Crone diety of the Goddess, and introspection.

It had been thirteen years since she heard that voice caress her ears. Sure, it flowed in the recesses of her memory; the inflections, the timbre, the accentuations—but not on her hearing. Sarah tucked a hunk of wet hair behind her ear. _I must look like a drowned rat._ How come in the movies, when the leading male shows up, the leading female always looks perfect? Composing herself and her thoughts, Sarah spoke. "You came." She didn't dare turn around yet, she wasn't that composed.

"You summoned. I had no choice in the matter."

Arranging herself so that she might rise with dignity and grace, Sarah got up and turned to face the apparition that was speaking to her. She tried hard not to let the image before her take her breath away. His appearance matched her memory of him; pale hair made almost translucent in the moonlight, his skin glowing from the reflected light. All this offset by the surrounding darkness of the night and his clothing. There were some dull glints of metal as the sheen of the moon rested upon them, accentuating the heavy, dark leather of his jacket. He sat perched on the edge of the alter, the muscles in his thighs seemed highlighted by the play of shadows cast by the night. Her ire started to surface as she understood the duality of his statement. "I suppose I should pardon the intrusion, then."

"Sarah," she suppressed the shiver that the enveloping of his voice uttering her name caused, "if there were a way to overcome what our ancestors have done, I would have it so. As it is, I am unwilling to pay the price that you so blithely offered this night. Be that as it may, you have summoned me here to speak with you. Speak."

Taken aback, Sarah's mind was drawn to the original purpose of this night. "Why, Jareth? Why me? Why offer yourself when you started by offering my dreams? How could it be that you would be my dream?"

A slow smile drew Jaerth's lips up his cheeks. It wasn't the smile of mirth or of joy; it was the smile of knowledge that only age can afford. "The Powers That Be work in mysterious ways, do they not? Be grateful, as I am, that They allowed your dream to coincide with mine, for you are as much my dream as I am yours." The wind played with strands of his hair as he elevated himself and walked to Sarah. Placing gloved hands upon her face, his fingers cradled her head, tilting it upwards, "For so long I have waited for you to join me, waiting for you to pass through the Veil on your own. Now you have summoned me. Parting from you might be difficult again, but this time, I will have the assurance that I, too, am your dream and that you are willing to accept it now."

As he spoke, his voice mesmerized Sarah. She stood motionless within his gentle grasp, waiting as his head lowered to her face. Ever so gently, Jareth's lips blanketed hers. The beginnings of the kiss sent an electric jolt through Sarah's body, reanimating her to reality. _"Wait. Did he just say what I think he said? I'm his dream? What…oh…HE'S KISSING ME!"_ It took agonizing seconds for the impulses in her brain to reach her body, telling it to respond to the stimulus. Her arms slipped over the smooth leather of his jacket and hooked around his shoulders and back. She pressed her body into his, feeling the clasp at his waist push into her abdomen. The groan that rumbled from his throat took her by surprise as the tenderness yielded to intense passion. He removed his hands from her face to encircle her body in his arms. It was ecstasy in his arms; it was his divine right to hold her. Over fifty years he waited, fantasized about this moment. It was everything and more than he could have ever imagined. He'd be damned if he didn't use his time wisely, this night. When at last their lips separated, a sigh passed between them, both now content with knowledge. They stood, a bit off center to the circle, in each others arm. Jareth rested his chin on her head, refusing to relinquish the hold that he so long waited to wield, and Sarah lowered her arms to encircle his waist, her hands resting over the form of his buttocks, her cheek placed on his chest where his jacket left bare.

"How?"

Jareth lifted his head to look upon the face of his beloved.

"How do I cross the Veil?"

Jareth disentangled himself from her with regret. He stepped towards the rock and noted what was placed there with loving care; a chalice of wine, a smoldering cauldron, a silver pentagram, an anthame, a wand, a candle. He picked up the pierced, silver disc and toyed with it as if it were a quarter being flipped through the fingers of a magician. "One of the sages of this world told you. Energy can not be neither created nor destroyed, merely transformed. Your energy must make the journey."

Sarah felt chilled by the absence of Jareth's arms. She watched him as he approached the alter that Patt arranged. Patt usually was very in tuned to the tools of her working and Sarah was very surprised when she didn't say anything about Jareth's flippant handling of her pentagram. _Patt. _Sarah looked over her shoulder at the still-collapsed form of her friend. Something was wrong, very wrong. The older woman had a dull pallor to her skin and she had not moved from the position that Sarah saw her in when she first saw her. Moving to her friend's side, Sarah crouched. Her hand recoiled from the matron's face when she realized that the form was not creating its own heat.

"She's dead." It came out as a shocked whisper; Sarah was having difficulties in digesting the fact.

"She has crossed the Veil."

Sarah looked up at Jareth, still near the alter. Her eyes flamed in fury as her voice became ice. "Bring her back."

"Sarah, I can not. I did not take her. She left on her own. She understood the price of this undertaking of yours and agreed to pay it, for your sake."

"Bring her back!" She stood, her entire body shaking with rage. "First you take my brother, now you take her! You…"

Jareth's eyes deepened with anger and burned with intensity as they bore down into the windows of her soul. Not realizing his forward motion, he strode over to her, his hands gripping her upper arms to emphasize his message. "I did nothing to her! She knew the price to be paid for transporting across the Veil! Do not blame me for your ignorance."

Sarah searched his eyes for the truth, hunting down any lies. Finding none, she sagged in his grasp. Jareth moved forward to catch her in his arm. Leaning heavily on him, Sarah wailed for her loss. "I'm so selfish! Goddess, why didn't she tell me!?" She grabbed handfuls of Jareth's jacket; despair driven madness caused the glitter that he saw in her eyes. "Tell me, how do I cross the Veil!?"

Gently, he guided them both to sit on the pebbled beach. Sarah didn't feel the small stones bite into her knees as she rocked in Jareth's arms. "Beloved, you cross the Veil when your time has come. Your friend here knew what was to come. She welcomed it with an open heart, eager to explore the next stage of existence."

"What do I tell her husband, her kids?" Sarah moaned.

Jareth kissed her forehead, firm lips on a furrowed brow. "What they would expect, what she would expect of you: the truth."

Frightened eyes gazed up into serene ones. "Don't leave me, Jareth."

"Never, Sarah-mine. Yet, I can not stay here in your world, confined only to this circle. You must banish me, as you must banish this circle."

"NO!" She clung to him as if he were an anchor in the fierce gale of life.

Holding her close, as if his actions could protect her, he realized that it was impossible to do that. "Sarah, we can't live in this circle. The Elements must be dispersed this night. It is the Way and the Means of the Craft."

Again, her eyes searched his. "Will I see you again? I mean, before I cross?"

Jareth smirked. "Do you think you can find another willing participant knowing what you now know?"

Sarah knew the answer. Lifting herself to her knees, she threw her body into Jareth's. He accepted her kiss with all of the passion and determination that she poured into him. There was a fierceness in her lips, a conviction that both knew that this last kiss would have to sustain the both of them until such time. Their souls intertwined as their minds and hearts bonded to one another, a binding that would have to be able to bridge any divide that their ancestors had thrown in their lives' path.

Sarah rose to her feet. Without looking back, she stooped to pick up her own anthame as she approached the alter. She turned to face the circle. This was no longer Sarah, young woman who was bonded with a Fae. This was Sarah, Maid of the Ancient Way, passing through her rite of passage to Matron.

"**Ye are my sisters and my brothers of the Past, Present and Future.**

**May we walk upon the Silver Path throughout Time,**

**Through all the Times that are yet to be.**

**We have met this night and remembered. We have known this night.**

**Time is no time, barriers are naught but illusion.**

**All life is endless!"**

She looked meaningfully at Jareth's erect form, his arms tense at his sides, his hands clenched in fists. His gaze was intense, taking her in as if this were the last time he would ever see her. _It just might be_, she thought.

**I bid thee go now, all called here, disturbing not those who would fear thee, nor harming any substance of this Earth.**

**Remember me, for we are One, for the Gods have seen and it is They who call the tune!**

**So Mote it Be!"**

Lifting her anthame above her head, Sarah watched its tempered blue-tipped steel sliced through the darkness of the night with the setting moon's light. _By the Gods and the Goddess, she is magnificent!_

"**All that is for my highest good is now past as is the year that is no more.**

**Might that I seek knowledge from that which has been and seek, **

**within the New Year, **

**the wisdom to be that which the Mighty Mother sees fit that I be!**

**Blessed Be the Ancient Woman!"**

Lowering her arms, she was not alarmed to see only the prone body of a woman on the ground in front of her. With a ragged sigh, she sent the Elements to their Realms, thanking them each in their turn and disbanded the circle. She then dug into her backpack and pulled out a cellphone. Sitting on the ground, she dialed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I've done it for you. Now, please return the favor. Review. Thank you. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Witches' Rites

**Author:** Yodeladyhoo

**Summary: **Sarah longs to be with Jareth, but at what cost?

**Genre:** Fantasy

**Pairings:** Jareth x Sarah Rating: T

**disclaimer** (dĭs-klā'mər): noun

**1.** (law) a voluntary repudiation of a person's legal claim to something

**2.** denial of any connection with or knowledge of

**syn:** disavowal

c.1986, 2007 The Jim Henson Company.

LABYRINTH is a trademark of The Jim Henson Company.

Labyrinth characters c.1986 Labyrinth Enterprises.

All rights reserved, but not by me.

All rights are reserved, but not by me. This short story is a work of fiction. All original characters in this story are based on actual persons. Said persons have been contacted and permission to use their likenesses has been granted. This means, if I didn't speak to you about this, it isn't you I'm talking about. Permission for the use of the non-original characters has not been requested by the author or granted by the licensor. This short story was written for your perusal and pleasure. No compensation, either financial or actual, has been collected or requested.

**Plea for Reason:** I did it! A complete story in under 72 hours! Woo-Hoo! I'm thinking about extending this into a real lemon custard, but it would be very listian to do it, but if you want to see it…Well, you know that little, blue square button on the lower left side of the page that has the word 'Go' on it, down there ? Use it to let me know if I should continue the scene.

* * *

Jareth lifted his eyes…

To find himself standing in the woods, a full moon in a crystalline sky peeking through a canopy devoid of leaves. He looked further up and tasted the atmosphere. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, attempting to clear his heart of the yearning that has now settled in for a long residence. At least this time, he knew there was hope in his future. Not wishing to return to his home very soon, Jareth chose to walk for a bit, to see where his feet would take him. It had nothing to do the aching loneliness that his castle afforded him. So many souls were there, yet none to commune with.

He did not know for how long he walked or how far he traveled, nor the direction he moved in. His feet led, his mind wandered. He was startled to find a woman lying in a bed of grass and soft pine needles. Something about her was familiar; Jareth could almost put his finger on it, yet the memory was elusive. Not entering the glade fully, Jareth absently summoned the miasma to his gloved hand. Like an obedient servant, light coalesced around his fingertips and formed a bauble. Ever so softly, he breathed on it and sent it on its path towards the woman. Jareth then crouched behind a bush to see what would transpire.

The orb collided with a rounded shoulder and burst like any other ordinary soap bubble would. Immediately, Jareth heard her take a full, lung filling breath of air, followed by her fully stretching her body. Yawning loudly, the figure sat up to survey her surroundings. Jareth could barely see the fall of chestnut coloured hair that exposed the nape of her neck. The head rose up from a sturdy neck and broad shoulders that were rising up as the rest of the body stood. A broad back narrowed by minuscule increments to a waistline that was barely defined. Hips flared suggestively, telling a life's tale of child bearing and rearing and legs that were reminiscent of marble columns that had withstood the test of time.

She was Gaia reborn in the Underground. All things about her suggested nurturing and birth. Looking around her, her hair swung around and caressed her jaw line with a seasoned touch. Jareth caught sight of pendulous breasts hanging from strong shoulders. The dark, inverted triangle of her mons was nestled between rounded thighs as sweetly as a thickly wooded valley hidden within an ancient mountain range now reduced to hills. Yes, this was the Mother that his Sarah would long strive to emulate. Now, Jareth could truly mourn for her loss.

She was ignorant of her observer as she assimilated her surroundings. Still turning in circles, she was caught unawares as a hand touched her upon her shoulder and its mate slide around her waist. A warm breath tickled her cheek as the voice that created it filled one ear.

"Hello, Patricia."

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**Author's Note:** I've done it for you. Now, please return the favor. Review. Thank you. 


End file.
